


Siddhartha

by FaeriArchive (FaeriMagic)



Series: School Assignments [8]
Category: Siddhartha - Hermann Hesse
Genre: Gen, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2020-06-03 19:23:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeriMagic/pseuds/FaeriArchive





	Siddhartha

Young Siddhartha was filled with hate and contempt for his father. The nerve of the old man! It irritated him when he was treated kindly. Why should he be kind now, _now_ , of all times, when it was _he_ that left Siddhartha’s mother years ago.

And now his mother was dead. Young Siddhartha remembered all the times his mother commented on how much he looked like his father. Why did she still love him despite the fact that he left her? This was the one thing he could not understand.

Siddhartha. Hah. He understood that this was his father’s name.

 _My name is not Siddhartha._ He told himself. _My name is…Rahula. Yes, Rahula will do._

He trudged through the forest, looking behind him occasionally to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Upon sensing his stomach was empty, he went to the first house he saw and knocked on it.

The door was answered by a girl. “Yes?” she said.  
“See here,” The boy arrogantly said. “I have walked a great distance and I request a meal and night’s stay.”  
The girl was momentarily stunned by his pompousness. “Do you think food drops down from the sky?”  
“Food is grown, harvested, then cooked. I had believed that was common knowledge, but I must have been mistaken.”  
The girl was irritated.  
“Who are you, and what do you want with me?”  
“My name is Sidd… it is Rahula. I am Rahula.”  
“Please understand then, great Rahula,” the girl said in a mocking tone. “Food is something not easily obtained here. If your stomach is as empty as you say it is, then you must be willing to work, for that is the way it is here.”  
“I’ll have you know that I come from a noble family!” Rahula said indignantly.  
“Then I’m sorry, great Rahula. We do not have much food to spare.”  
Rahula was about to turn away in a huff when his stomach overpowered him.  
Limping slightly from the pain, he muttered. “Just tell me what I should do.”  
The girl, amused, let him in. “Then, oh great Rahula, welcome to our humble home. I am Sujata. If you would please take care of my brothers while I wash the clothes, it would be most helpful. When he comes, I shall ask my father to provide you a meal for your help.”  
“You…want me…to take care of your brothers?” Rahula said in disgust.  
“You only need to play with them and keep them out of trouble. But would you prefer the clothes instead?” Sujata said. Rahula thought about it, and declined.  
Rahula lazily entertained the two year olds, Asita and Alara. He wondered if the food this family had was indeed edible. Being the spoiled noble he was, he had become used to luxuries and riches and being an only child.  
Asita and Alara took to him, thinking that he was a more interesting instrument to climb than other people.  
Rahula became quite distressed when they began to pull his hair.  
“Oh, Alara.” Sujata sighed as she peeled him off of Rahula.  
“Are they always like this?” he said with distaste. Sujata looked at him.  
“Why, yes, of course. They are children; they do not know better. Had you not any siblings?”  
“No, I had no siblings.”  
“Then how did you spend your days?” Sujata said.  
“I had a tutor,” Rahula said. “That taught me about countless subjects.” He continued to talk about his noble life. Sujata, sensing that it was to be a long topic, sat down and listened. Asita and Alara was put to sleep by Rahula’s droning and did not interrupt his monologue.  
Rahula told about his mother, his father, his hatred, and his grief. As he had no friends, he did not encounter a listener as good as Sujata. Usually, people dismissed his worries or thoughts as rubbish, or only listened to them half-heartedly while doing another task. Not Sujata. She listened to him completely and this made him plunge further into his memories and deeper into his feelings about the world and his life. Never had he felt so refreshed to let his worries out.  
He finished talking and now was struck with the feeling of awkwardness. After all, he did confess his thoughts to a stranger — a commoner — that he just met.  
“Your father seems to be a kind and patient man.” Sujata said carefully.  
“That’s what I hate about him.” Rahula snapped. Suddenly the exhilaration was gone and disappointment settled back into his body. He regretted letting his mouth talk irresponsibly.  
“Why?”  
“Because…” Rahula bit his lip. “Because he left my mother. Because he left me before I was even born.”  
“He left because he was searching for something.” Sujata said. “Perhaps this something was important to him.”  
“What? What was more important than his own family?”  
“Hmm…” Sujata said. She had met Rahula’s father, Siddhartha once. Her family was visiting a distant relative at the time and they wanted to cross the river. Being the ferry man, he sailed them across the water. Sujata had noted that he looked happy. He looked as if he was filled with happiness and peace. It had been a strange sight for her to see. “Perhaps, he was searching for the Truth.”  
“The Truth?” Rahula said with disbelief.  
“Yes, the Truth. The Truth about life. He is a holy man, yes? He must have discovered true happiness and true peace.”  
“Yes, true happiness and true peace is more important than family.” Rahula said bitterly.  
“Is that so? I thought family was included with happiness and peace.” Sujata said.  
“That is not true.” Rahula said. “It is not true with him.”  
“How are you to be sure? Was he not happy with your mother? Then why did he stay with her? Did he not treat you well? Why did he let you stay at the ferryman’s house?”  
“Because he wants me to turn into him! He wants me to be the same as him!”  
“Did he say that?”  
“He…he did not…but…but..”  
“Rahula, you may disagree with your father, but don’t hate him. You’ll be possessed by hatred. Perhaps, you may go your own way and experience your own experiences. But unless you resolve this anger, you will continue to suffer.”  
“What if I want to suffer?”  
“Did you suffer when you told me of your life?” Sujata said. To this, Rahula had no answer. “When one vents, all his troubles seem to go away. Indeed, while you were venting, you looked more human, more normal. In fact, even though you were angrily venting, may I dare say that I observed you become slightly more relieved.”  
“I…I did feel a bit relieved.”  
“I think your father cares about you, Rahula. I have met him once before, but he struck me as a kind and patient man. Trust me when I say that he is worried about you; it is an instinct that all parents have.”  
“And if he’s not?”  
“Tell him of your grievances. Let him listen. Then listen. If what he says does not please you, then find your own happiness.”  
Rahula was quiet. Though he disliked the idea, he had to admit that it was logical. Indeed, he had felt that he had acted in a childish way after listening to Sujata talk to him like an equal and not as a child.  
“Perhaps, I shall do that.” He said quietly.  
“Yes, but not tonight.” Sujata said. “My father will arrive soon, and the path back to the ferryman’s house is far. You can take the journey tomorrow while you rest for today.”

Rahula could see the house down the hill.  
_Does he care? Would he care? What if he didn’t?_ Rahula thought.  
“Find your happiness.” Sujata had said. Rahula trudged down the slope.  
He found his father meditating by the river.  
“Father.” Rahula said. His father’s eyes immediately opened.  
“You came back.” He said with a smile. He uncrossed his legs and stood up. “I believe I must apologize. I understand that things have been hard for you to adjust, especially since I have been absent for your whole life.”  
“Why did you leave?” Rahula said. “Why did you leave mother?” _Why did you leave me?_  
“Your mother was a special person to me; she was one of the few people that understood me. I had a desire to find what ‘true happiness’ was, and she knew that. So she let me go.” Siddhartha had a gentle look on his face. “Though I never forgot about her. When you two arrived, I was filled with even more happiness. It has been so many years…”  
“Happiness?”  
“Yes, happiness.”  
“Will you teach me? This happiness?”  
“I could teach you. I will try. But as Vasudeva said, experiences are better than teachings. It pains me, but someday, you will have to leave me as I have left your mother. You will have to listen and find your own happiness.”  
_Find your happiness._  
Yes, Rahula–no–Siddhartha understood. Happiness wasn’t something bought or sold. It was given. It was made. It was discovered.  
His father had found his happiness. Why could he not do the same? After all, was he not entitled to happiness to?  
“I wish to find my happiness, father.” Siddhartha said.  
His father smiled.  
“Then look into your Self and listen.”  
Siddhartha gazed at the bubbling river rushing by. He tried hard to listen to the innermost portion of his Self.  
As they both sat down, Siddhartha thought he heard a quiet whisper, a small hum of the word of perfection–Om.


End file.
